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A Series of Hypothetical Interactions
__NOEDITSECTION__ These fanfictions belong to Fear, please do not edit without their explicit permission. Contents : The Hero For Fun : The Denizen's Cloud Queen : Apricots on a Wednesday : The Barracuda's Son : The Witch, The Seer, & The Pirate : Santa Claws The Hero For Fun We all know about heroes - in books, in comics, in film. But, do we know about the realistic life of an everyday hero? Probably not. And no, I'm not referring to the volunteering folks that keep society pieced together, I'm talking about - "You're talking about me." A pair of dull brown eyes gazed back upon the narrator - Fear - and left their brows scrunching forward with confusion. Their talons shook a bit as the voice was audible, the statement of whom they really were talking about. "For the love of Sphinx." A relatively short, caped, wingleSSKNNFMCNKNCK listen i may be wingless but i swear i'll still hand all of you your tails in a fight. anyways, yeah this narrator sucks for my own story so its my turn to talk. moons, how did they type on this thing without breaking the screen??? anyways whats up reader, thing, people. im honor and im the strongest dragon of my time, the local hero for fun. thats really it. really. onto the next story, cloudeyes is coming to see me today so i dont have enough time to work out a real story. The Denizen's Cloud Queen "The case for the IceWing's new ruler is now an open discussion." An elderly IceWing had announced, squinting his aged eyes behind his specs. Clearing his throat, his tail spikes rattled against the icy flooring to gather attention, order. He then gave a gesture to one of his colleagues that sat to his left, with her nodding lightly in response. An IceWing with wisps in her scales had gathered her documents, hues of tarnished silver mixed with the occasional glint of gold as she moved slowly, carefully. Her eyes were a piercing gold, a gold which remained on a paper that she set upon the wooden table before her. She took in a slow breath, then released it. "Director Snow," she began, an edge in her tone akin to blades on ice. "I'd like for you to take into consideration that, while Fallstreak's sudden disappearance has granted her suspicion, we should allow Lady Lenticular to lead until a proper decision can be made." There was silence, all eyes upon the young bounty huntress whom had spoken. Iris wasn't exactly out of her league here, they trusted her judgement for only one reason. Iris raised her head, her gaze focused directly upon Snow, the elder IceWing who had declared an open discussion. His paled, silvery eyes merely stared back at Iris with hesitant disdain at her words. She cracked a mild smirk upon her lips, an eyeridge raising, as if to silently ask if Snow was daring to overstep. He'd sighed, more out of agitation this time. He raised his tail, letting gravity take it again to approve the notion. A few gasps were heard, as well as whispers questioning the decision. Snow's opinion, however, was second to The Denizen herself. Iris' smirk had vanished as she gave a final nod to the director, understanding that she'd need to fetch Lenticular herself now. Director Snow, the eldest IceWing in the old kingdom, watched as the golden, furred IceWing had left the scene. Fellow advisors and officials had asked him if he was certain with the decision. He tapped a few talons upon the wooden table rhythmically, his eyes narrowing now. He didn't answer, not out loud. 'Hopefully Iris is right about this.' Apricots on a Wednesday "It's ''you, and it's always been about you." A voice hissed with disdain. "Never once have you decided to care about me! Why?"'' The warm colored SandWing turned their attention to the illusion-esque RainWing, her eyes sparkling, as if watching or waiting for some specific kind of response. The two had been watching a play performance done by a handful of theater-oriented dragonets - or, at least, Apricot was. She tried to maintain her focus on the performance, but couldn't help averting her eyes, redirecting them back to the RainWing she'd sat beside. Finally, Wednesday sighed. "What? Is there something in my frill?" She asked, quietly so as not to disrupt the acting dragonets. Her amber eyes remained fixated on the drama they'd been viewing, only shifting slightly to gaze briefly back at the SandWing. Apricot looked puzzled. She took a longer look at Wednesday this time, really taking in her appearance now. The SandWing silently admired the shifting waves of black and white upon her scales, her tarnished purple freckles, and the rainbow-like tint that was occasionally shifting into view as well. She hadn't even noticed the way Wed had shifted her frill out of view, almost forgetting the question entirely before the RainWing's gaze had brought her back to reality. "Uhm," Apricot stammered, embarrassed. "No! There's nothing in your frill." She finally blurted out, causing Wednesday to laugh lightheartedly at her flustered tone. "You were checking me out, then?" Wednesday offered smugly, having her scales shift in a wave of oranges and yellows momentarily as she spoke. Apricot made a noise of protest. "No! You're just-" "I'm what?" "You're distracting!" The Barracuda's Son text The Witch, The Seer, & The Pirate text Santa Claws Every year there's one week in which the tribes of Pyrrhia & Pantala look forward to. This is commonly referred to simply as the last week of the year, which calls for plenty of celebrations. The most enjoyed of the festivities, however, is a holiday called Snow's Flame. This holiday is best compared to a scavenger's 'Christmas', whatever that is. Regardless, every now and again, a dragon is elected to spread the spirit of Snow's Flame. They are referred to as Santa Claws. The name itself is varied from tribe to tribe - SandWings call them 'Sand's Claws', the SeaWings call them 'Delta's Glow', and so on. But every time a new individual is chosen, their appearance shifts in accordance to where the previous one favors most. This time, Santa Claws is named Awe, and Awe resides in the rainforest. However, despite the name of the new Santa Claws being glorious in comparison to their predecessors, Awe is... Well, something else. The RainWing-esque candidate was currently running - from whom, you may be wondering? The authorities. "Hey!" A NightWing barked, trotting after the festive speedster. "Stop! Why'd you burn up the gifts I had?!" They demanded, increasing their speed. "Why? Oh, you know!" Awe replied, glancing back to the fool bent on capturing them. They quickly returned their gaze to the front, to their destination. They smirked upon hearing puzzled yelps from the NightWing, then leaped into a very, very large hole in the ground. The NightWing saw this, and dived right in after them - only to meet bedrock greeting them unpleasantly on the snout. Meanwhile, the clever RainWing had now found themselves on Pantala, among a burst of glitter that smelled of mint. They landed on their paws, sighing heavily while shaking their head. "I wonder why everyone is so hung up with gifts this year." Awe wondered aloud, then shook their wings clean of the glitter. "Oh well. Guess I'll have to cut down on them this time." Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Fanon) Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon) Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Content (FearStrikerKrysantheShimmer) Category:Genre (Comedy)